


The only place that I can hold you tight

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:01:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the song Burning House, by Cam.</p>
<p>'I've been sleepwalking/been wandering all night/trying to take what's lost and broken/make it right/i've been sleepwalking/too close to the fire/but it's the only place that I can hold you tight'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

        The glow of the fire from the outer windows of the house caused a bone deep fear to move through Dean.  He sat in the impala, paralyzed. He played the words from the earlier phone call in his head,

        “There’s a fire at the house, Dean. I heard the prayers. The ghost must have survived somehow. I’m headed there now.”

                “Wait, Cas,” Dean had barked into the phone, the terror in his voice unexpected and causing Cas to pause.

        “I have to go in, Dean. Meet me there.” Cas finally responded, his voice softened but resolved.

        Now Dean looked at the family home, smoke beginning to edge out from under the crack of the open upstairs window. _Why wasn’t anyone coming out? What the hell was taking Cas so long. What was taking Sam so long?_   Dean took a deep breath and in jerky, desperate motions opened the car door and ran to the house, kicking in the eggshell blue door and stumbling into the room.

        Only the sound of fire met his ears, no shouts, no cries for help.  Dean pressed his sleeve to his mouth, the smoke not yet overwhelming although his breath was short and panicked. He turned the corner into the kitchen and saw Cas, standing in the center. His gaze turned mournful as he saw Dean.

        “Cas!” Dean shouted in relief and rushed toward him, “Where are-”

                “No one’s here.” Cas’ voice was brittle. Dean looked behind him as he heard debris fall from the stairs.

        “What?!” he shouted, and grabbed Cas’ arm, only to have the angel wrench from his grip. No, that wasn’t right, wrenched _from_ his grip. Dean fell back and saw Cas also stumble backward, face pained.

        “Dean, I _can’t_.”

        A different type of fear set in as Dean gasped for breath.  The fear for his own life, of burning, was paralyzing.  Fear for Cas’ life was ten times worse.

        “What?” he whispered.

        Dean was startled when Cas sat down, hands on his knees. Cas’ hands were shaking. He refused to look at Dean. “This room is filled with sigils. The family was never here. It was all a ruse.”

        Dean got to his feet and walked back over to Cas, kneeling next to him, placing one hand on his shoulder, the other coming up to his mouth as he coughed.  The smoke in the room was causing his eyes to sting now. “Dean, you need to leave.” Cas suddenly pushed at Dean, almost causing him to fall over.

        “What..,” Dean coughed, “What sigils?”  He didn't see anything. Other than a dark room and the flickering of orange and yellow from the above the stairs.  Cas quickly threw a hand up, sigils glowing blue all around them, then again he pushed Dean away,

        “Dean, go.”

        Dean spoke slowly, fighting to keep his eyes from closing against the fear, from whimpering against the warmth growing in the room, the sweat trickling over his brow.  “The fire can’t kill you, right.”  His voice was raspy; his mind didn’t seem to be working properly.  Everything was a haze.

        Cas just gave him a look that froze his insides. It was the look Jo had when she told them to be realistic.  That Bobby had when he told them it was time. Cas’ voice had faded to a whisper, “It’s holy fire.”

        For a moment there was nothing but their gazes locked together. Dean flinched as the flames spread from the upstairs, the curtains in the living room catching. Cas’ gaze was scared, barely composed, “Dean. Go. Please, go. Please.” Dean hadn’t heard Cas beg like that before.

        Cas’ whole body was trembling, wetness that Dean had never seen on the angel’s face threatened to spill over. He always knew as a hunter he wouldn’t have a long life. Hell, he had already died multiple times. The only reason he was here now was Castiel. His guardian angel. His friend. Dean had dared in his dreams to ask Cas if they could be something more.  To tell Cas to hold him.  To beg Cas to stay with him. To love him.

        He had buried those dreams with cynicism and crude retorts, one night stands and months without any touch at all. His heart hurt as he thought of what they could never be now. In a voice that was surprisingly clear, Dean felt himself saying, “No.”

        Cas’ eyes widened, and Dean felt himself being grabbed and shoved away, Cas' breath fast and increasingly panicked, each time Dean moved back closer, and Cas’ blows became stronger.  Dean grunted at the impact on his chest and wrapped his arms around Cas in a tight embrace.  Cas began to shout, trying to throw punches but the sigils must have weakened him because the strikes got weaker and weaker.  Dean realized Castiel was sobbing in his arms now.  

        “I’m not leaving you, Cas.” Dean felt himself getting woozy, and stroked through Cas’ hair, “I’ve got you, Cas.” He wasn’t scared anymore. He mostly felt tired. Cas looked up at him, tear streaked face full of turmoil, and with a last bout of strength, he surged forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s. It was desperate, messy, and short, before Dean broke away, coughing weakly and falling against Castiel’s chest.

        He closed his eyes, and felt Cas’ arms circle around him.  He felt the damp of Cas’ wet cheeks pressed against his temple. He thought he heard one last prayer from the angel’s lips, begging his father to save the man he loved. Then nothing.

               When Sam drove up the street, the house was already in ashes, the fire trucks and ambulances loud and the sound of cameras and gawkers on cell phones constant.

        When Sam returned to the house the next morning; he still refused to believe that Dean had been trapped inside, that Cas had saved him like he always did. That the two would meet him by Dean’s car, which was still in the driveway. No one was there.

        When Sam walked through the ashes, he fell to his knees. He saw the amulet, tarnished and soot covered. Nestled close to the necklace, silver untarnished and clean, was an angel blade.

        When Sam stood, slowly wrapping the necklace around the handle of the angel blade, he held the items close to his chest.  He wept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to make this slightly less tragic and add a chapter/alternate ending. I hope you enjoy it :)

        "Cas." Dean woke up, gasping.  His voice was hoarse, like he had been screaming, or like he had been inhaling smoke.  Dean shuddered.  His t-shirt was covered in sweat.  Neither Cas nor Sam were knocking on his door, so at least he probably wasn't crying out in his sleep.  

        With unsteady legs, Dean swung out from under the too heavy blanket and stood.  He couldn't remember getting under the covers.  Cas had probably come in at some point and wrapped the blanket around him.  Dean's heart clenched at the memory-no the dream-of Cas shaking and crying and of fire...Dean forced the images out of his head, but the feeling of resignation, of regret, remained.  Dean wanted to get back in his bed until the feeling went away.  But he knew it wouldn't.  

        He couldn't let that dream become a premonition.  

        Dean walked purposefully down the hallway to Cas' room and knocked.  As he turned the handle of the door to enter he almost stopped. Almost bolted far away from this. Alone was familiar. Alone was safe. Alone _kept others safe_.  

        Dean could practically feel Cas' eyes on the door and opened it.  He was sitting casually on the bed, cell phone in his hand.  

        "Really, again?"  Dean felt some of the tension leave his shoulders simply from the exasperated fondness in Cas' expression.  Cas tossed the phone to the side and stood, his gaze turning slightly shadowed.

        "I was texting you, actually.  You had a nightmare."  Cas didn't phrase it as a question, and his eyes tracked the tear tracks on Dean's cheeks.  Belatedly, Dean felt the urge to rub them away, tapping his fingers on his thigh, clearing his throat,

        "Right. Your angel perception stuff is back."  Cas began to shake his head, then paused,

        "In a sense, maybe." He looked directly at Dean, something fragile in his expression, his voice almost small as he continued, "You prayed for me. You sounded..." Cas paused, "devastated."  Cas cleared his throat, a look of pain passing over his face.  Cas' voice strengthened again as he looked away, voice deceptively casual, "I didn't want to intrude so I thought a text might be appropriate." A hint of a smile passed Cas' face, "I actually found an emoji of a stuffed bear wearing sunglasses, I was planning to add at the end."  He looked up at Dean, beaming.  It made it so easy for Dean to step forward and place a chaste kiss on Cas' lips.  

        Cas stilled, then lifted his fingers and touched Dean's cheek, a hopeful question in his eyes.  Dean gave a tiny nod, his heart beating loud in his ears.  Cas cautiously pressed his lips back to Dean's.  When one of Dean's hands ran up into Cas' hair, pulling slightly, Cas let out a sigh and pushed into Dean with more confidence.  Moments or minutes later, they broke apart.  Cas huffed out a small, soft laugh, eyes bashful and joyful,  

        "That was very nice."  

        Dean snorted, "Damn straight," he looked down at the floor, "I'm a fantastic kisser."  

        There was a silent moment.  "Are you okay?"  Cas' gruff voice was accompanied by gentle fingers on his cheeks, running over the dried tears.  Dean looked up,

        "Yeah. I really am."  Cas raised an eyebrow, assessing him.  Dean broke out in a large grin, "I mean, I know I'm a catch."  He stopped, not sure what to say next.  Like, _I want you so bad it hurts but I wasn't sure you wanted me back.  That I had a nightmare about losing you and I was sobbing in my sleep because I can't lose you.  That I want to kiss you again._  Another huff, this time more exasperated, left Cas' lips,

        "You are..."  

        "What?" Dean was hyperaware of Cas' fingers still resting on his cheek.  Of Cas' body heat radiating into him.  His angel who loved cheeseburgers and used silly emoticons and always looked at Dean like he was really worthy of being the righteous man.  The way Cas was looking at him just now.

        "Just, you." Dean was surprised to hear Cas' voice waver, as the fingers ran down and behind his neck, reassuring and wanting and pulling him close for another kiss, "Dean." Cas breathed into Dean's mouth the taste of coffee and licorice- _where the hell did Cas find licorice?_ Cas' tongue traced Dean's upper lip and Dean lost the capacity for thought.  "My Dean. My beloved.  My Dean."


End file.
